A Parody Of Several Fictions
by musterrohirrim
Summary: What the title says. Not just Star Wars or Stargate.


Parody of Two Many Fictions to Count

He sat at a table near one wall of the establishment. He surveyed his surroundings with a slightly critical brown eye. It was fairly equal parts attractive hardwood, sparkling stonework, and soaring windows with stained glass borders. From his seat, he could see that the establishment had a view of a lovely set of falls and of a soaring mountain range.

He raised a hand to catch the eye of a nearby waiter, the man looked up before giving a short nod and moving towards a door that he assumed lead to a preparation area. He returned his attention to the soaring ceiling of the establishment.

A cleared throat caught his attention, he glanced up at the slightly embarrassed newcomer. Bright blue eyes met his own brown.

"May I join you?" the newcomer held himself like a military man, he wore black and gray clothing and an empty holster strapped on his hip as well as a dark vest unzipped. It was a far cry from his own bright orange and white.

He smiled at the newcomer, "Of course."

The man nodded before dropping lightly into the seat across from him. They sat quietly for a few minutes, the waiter returned with two drinks, a green liquid for the first man and a dark brown fluid for the newcomer.

Finally he cleared his throat and looked at his companion out of the corner of his eye, "So, uh, did you get tired of your friends over there?"

The newcomer glanced over his shoulder at several people wearing clothing slightly similar to his own, his mouth twisted into a wry smile, "Yeah, I got a little frustrated with them. You?"

He grinned at the newcomer, "Very much so," he turned his head to look at his companions- a group of beings wearing, mostly, brown, black or white robe things, "They are _very_ trying at times."

The newcomer chuckled softly, "I'm Evan by the way."

"Wedge." He shook the newcomer's hand as it was offered.

The two men lapsed back into a companionable silence before a discreet cough interrupted them. The young woman swallowed nervously before asking if she could sit in a soft, accented voice. Evan gestured to the seat next to him and the young woman sat. A waiter appeared noiselessly and set a glass of some orange fluid in front of her, she flashed him a smile before turning back to the table. She rubbed a spot between her eyes and took a deep drink.

She gestured to the room with a slight flick of her fingers, "Nice place, huh?"

Wedge nodded appreciatively, "It is certainly unique."

Evan nodded and took another sip of his drink, "I think I could gladly retire in a place like this."

They went back to their silence for a longer time before they were interrupted again, this time by an older gentleman wearing digital, green camouflage. He grinned at Evan as he dropped into the fourth seat, he already had his glass and didn't ask to join them.

He thrust a hand at Wedge, "Reynolds."

Wedge smiled and introduced himself.

The young woman nodded nervously and said, "River."

"River, what- oh, I apologize." An older man with dark skin and bushy gray hair stopped at their table.

"No problem," Evan raised his glass slightly with a smile, "We've always got room for one more."

"As long as you think you're unimportant enough to sit with us." Reynolds shared a smile with Evan before squinting at the man, "Do you?"

The man frowned before turning to River, "You're brother is looking for you." River sighed and, after draining her drink, walked back to the huddle she had come from.

The man took her now vacant seat and introduced himself as Booke and waited until the waiter had returned with his drink to speak to his companions. "What are you folks doing here?"

Wedge shrugged and sipped more lomin-ale, "I just wanted to hang out with Tycho and Wes but got dragged here with _them_."

Evan smiled, "I was on back-up duty, thought we'd been captured by something bad. Again."

"At least you get to pull your leader's asses out of the fire still, Evan. I rarely get to do that anymore." Reynolds looked a little despondent, "I love it when they look like idiots."

Booke just shrugged then glanced over at his group, as if checking that they were still there.

"Afraid they'll leave you, Booke?" Evan took another drink of his beer.

"The captain is quite good at starting fights." Booke said, "I like to be on hand to stop them, when possible."

"An admirable pursuit," Wedge agreed, "If I could stop the Jedi from starting fights then I could have retired twenty years ago."

This received weary nods from Evan and Reynolds and a soft chuckle from Booke.

The four men sat in silence for a while longer.

"So, how'd you go from meeting your friends to…" Evan gestured to the group of Jedi and Sith that were apparently playing a tournament of Thumb Wars at the bar.

Wedge frowned and tipped his head to one side, "I don't rightly remember," he admitted, "One minute I was flying, the next I was here trying to ignore the whole Force-argument-about-dark-and-light-evil-and-good thing. Being the only one of them that doesn't have the Force makes it a rather moot thing for me."

"The only one?" Booke asked.

Wedge shrugged, "Well, technically, Jag doesn't have it but he's drooling over their Sword Of The Jedi and couldn't be bothered to hang out with his uncle."

Evan nodded sympathetically, "I'm sure when my nephews reach that point they'll be the same."

Reynolds looked confused, "You have nephews?"

Evan glared at the other man, "Not all of us can have a tragic and horrible screwed up past, some of us have to be All-American, straight laced, attractive, family-man officers. Without tragic pasts... and all that."

Reynolds caught the glare and sent it back, "I never said I had a tragic past."

"Really? You apparently have never watched the ending of #2.14, that made everyone wonder." Evan laughed and finished his drink. He signaled the waiter then looked curiously at his glass, "I've had three of these and I don't feel a buzz, are they really alchoholic?"

"Now that you mention it, I don't think so." Wedge looked at his own glass, "I'm pretty sure, if it was, that they would have been fistfighting by now," he jerked his thumb over his shoulder where the Jedi and Sith had graduated to arm wrestling.

"I know some people in my group would be making out… or something." Reynolds took another drink, "I thought I would escape before that happened."

Evan nodded tiredly.

The waiter returned and sat down Evan's drink.

Evan took a deep draught, "So that just leaves you, Booke, what's your story?"

Booke shrugged, "I'm afraid that my past is very simple. Nothing like you gentlemen."

"No, you're here because someone thinks you have something to tell," Wedge shook his head, "So what's the secret?"

Booke sighed, "I don't actually know."

"Maybe we should ask the author?" Reynolds leaned his seat back and propped his feet in the vacant chair.

"Are we allowed to do that?" Booke looked confused, "I thought we had to wait for them to talk to us."

"You can always ask," the author glared at Reynolds until he moved his feet, "Whether or not we'll answer is the true question."

The four fictional characters exchanged a look.

"So…?" Evan raised his eyebrows.

The author shrugged, "I don't know either, the show was canceled before they told us. I can tell you what I think all of your back-stories are, but only if you want to hear them."

"I'd like to hear mine." Reynolds smiled indulgently, "Unless it's tragic?"

"Not at all," the author shifted to get a better view of him, "you were a young captain that was blackmailed into stealing technology for that other guy. He promised that if you assisted him in acquiring this contraband then you'd get your chance to travel through the Spinning Pool Of Not-Water And Death and then he'd probably shoot you in the back on some operation or another." The author shrugged eloquently. "That's what I thought anyway."

"Hey, I said no tragedy." Reynolds scowled at the author, "That sounds like a tragedy waiting to happen."

The author nodded in agreement, "That it does."

Evan snorted at Reynolds expression, "What about me?"

The author shrugged, "Like you said… straight-laced, confident, handsome, wonderful Uncle Air Force. However, you are allowed to be resentful that you haven't been promoted in seven years."

Evan laughed.

"And you, Shepard Booke? You worked for the Alliance, an Operative. But you faked your death- or just retired- and got out. You went to the Abbey and became a religious man to atone for everyone you killed as an Alliance man. You left the Abbey when you felt that you could do more in the open and, there, you met the man that changed everything you thought you believed." The author stopped and regarded him sadly, "You are a tragedy, just by being part of that story."

The silence reigned supreme for a few minutes before a crash alerted the group that a Jedi had been hurled out of one of the tall windows. The author grinned and muttered something about "the manure pile".

Wedge cleared his throat, "I had better go win that for them."

Evan smiled, "It was a pleasure to meet you, Wedge Antilles."

Wedge smiled back then gave a little bow and went to win his wars…

It wasn't too long after that that Evan's radio crackled softly. He sighed and stood up, "Thanks for sharing the table gentlemen. It was a pleasure to meet you, Shepard. Reynolds, you still owe me a drink."

Reynolds smiled and nodded, Booke said his farewells and Evan left to save his superior officer…

Reynolds finished his drink. "Thank you for the company, Shepard Book."

As he began to walk away, he paused and half turned back, "Hey, Author."

The author sat up, "Yes, Colonel?"

"I like my back story." Reynolds made good his escape…

Booke chuckled, "I believe you may have made all the correct assumptions, Author. And I liked mine, too."

The author smiled widely, "I'm glad you did, Shepard, I suppose I'd hate to have to rewrite this fiction if they ever did reveal what you were."

Booke stood and collected his coat, "Thank you for the company, Author, and the ambience of the surroundings."

The Author stood, "I'll walk you to the door?"

"I'd like that."


End file.
